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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23653462">Matters of the mind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jubah/pseuds/jubah'>jubah</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>La Passe-Miroir | The Mirror Visitor - Christelle Dabos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dubious Consent, F/F, set during book 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:40:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,499</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23653462</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jubah/pseuds/jubah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ophelia helps Patience out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patience/Ophelia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>1. This fanfic is DUBCON, so watch out if that's not your cup of tea!<br/>2. My eternal thanks to @the_icesalamander, my beta &amp; without whom this fic would literally not exist &lt;3 so many of the headcanons here were elaborated during our conversations that I can't even tell who came up with what!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>1. Ophelia</strong>
</p><p>Ophelia’s brain was working full speed and every line thought arrived at the same conclusion: leave Patience alone.</p><p>One: Archibald’s sisters had made their dislike of Ophelia obvious from the time they arrived at the Opal Sands. They refused to exchange even the most mundane of words with her, leaving all her “good morning”s unanswered. Patience, she knew, would at best ignore her, and, at worst, feel offended by any attempt to help. Second: the whole family was connected mentally, of course - if Patience had any need of help, her sisters would immediately know it. Third: even if Patience <em> did </em> need help at that moment, Ophelia - clumsy and ever clueless - was likely to make it worse.</p><p>Yes, leaving Patience alone in the deserted thermal bath was clearly the right choice. Ophelia had returned there after hours (and ignored the big CLOSED sign at the door) in order to fetch a bathrobe of Agatha’s, which she had borrowed and forgotten there earlier. She would just make an excuse for her sister and come back to get it tomorrow. </p><p>But no matter how these reasonable thoughts compelled her, Ophelia remained frozen in place. At the other corner of the room, despite the half-light of the lamps and the misty steam, she could see Patience sitting inside the bath, her head hanging to the side. Her body, half submersed in water, seemed strangely languid. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed - much more than the healthy pink common to sauna frequenters - and one of her hands held fast to the handle on the wall. Was she having trouble breathing?</p><p><em> I should go and find help </em>, Ophelia thought, and did the exact opposite. Approaching carefully, she crouched next to Patience and worried a little more when the other woman didn’t take notice of her. From up close the situation was even more alarming: Patience was frowning, out of breath, and every once in a while little pained sounds escaped from her throat. Ophelia swallowed and, as careful as possible, touched Patience’s shoulder and softly called her name.</p><p>Ophelia had braced herself for a poor reaction, but Patience’s scream-jump startled her so badly that she lost her balance and fell forward into the bath, bumping her head against the tile seat and breathing in way too much water. </p><p>She came back up coughing violently and fumbling for her glasses. Frustrated, she saw Patience pressed against the wall, highly alarmed, like she was under attack.</p><p>“Y-you!! W-what do you want?!”</p><p>Adjusting her glasses and massaging her head with her wet reader gloves, Ophelia was grateful that her face didn't easily betray her emotions. Patience's reaction was completely out of proportion. Still coughing up the water she had swallowed, she replied curtly: “You looked like you were in pain."</p><p>Patience’s wide eyes darted wildly around the room now, as if searching for witnesses. There were wet locks of hair escaping from her shower cap, and her cheeks were even redder than they were a moment ago. </p><p>“Is anyone else…?”</p><p>“No.” Ophelia knew she was a fool to feel compassion, but Patience did look pitiful right now. She had never seen the girl lose her composure; it made Ophelia wonder if she had a disease she’d rather keep secret from others, or some courtly nonsense of the kind. More gently, Ophelia added, “I forgot my bathrobe here early on, and came back to look for it by myself. There’s no one else here, Patience, I promise.”</p><p>Those words seemed to calm the other woman down a little, as she closed her eyes and tried to steady her breath, and turned around to leave. But something was definitely wrong: she now frowned again, biting her lip, like she had a splitting headache or something. Ophelia waited and placed herself behind Patience, confused as well as worried. When Patience made for the edge of the bath and then misstepped and fell back, Ophelia was well-positioned to catch the taller woman in her arms. “Patience?” she called, awkwardly close to Patience’s ear.</p><p>Patience moaned loudly. </p><p>The blood rushed to Ophelia’s head in less than a heartbeat; suddenly it dawned on her that Patience’s affliction was no affliction at all. Ophelia was not incredibly well-versed on such things, but the signs were recognizable enough that even she should have been able to tell what was going on. Deathly embarrassed, she felt like an idiot for not having realized it sooner. <em> Patience was… She was... definitely… </em></p><p>Another gasp brought Ophelia to reality: she had to leave, <em> now </em> . But when she tried to lay Patience down again, the other woman held onto her like she was drowning. Completely at a loss, Ophelia just sat there with her, petrified, awkwardly holding that squirming body and listening to the intimate sound of Patience’s panting, as she buried her damp face on the nook of Ophelia’s wet neck. She gave Patience some pats on the back before she could help it. The situation was bizarre to the point of surrealism, and for a moment she felt distant, as in a dream. But the dream shattered as a very real urge took over Ophelia’s nerves, when Patience’s open-mouthed gasping and moaning against her neck started producing warm, sensitive echoes on her lower body. A particularly wet, obscene, dragged out sigh sent a jolt that Ophelia felt down <em> low </em>.</p><p>Ophelia snapped her thighs closed on instinct, just to realize she couldn’t: Patience had climbed on one of them. The woman - taller than Ophelia, really, it was a wonder she could still breath with that body draped all over her, pinning her against the tiles, definitely too big to be on her lap - was now moving in a steady but desperate rhythm, and Ophelia realized with a mix of horror and something <em> else </em> that Patience was rubbing against the naked skin on her thigh, where the pants of her bathing suit were hiked up. Back and forth, back and forth: the movement of Patience’s hips, earnest and urgent, impossible to ignore, made Ophelia squirm too in response, as the insistent feeling between her legs became much more crucial than previous thoughts of escape -</p><p>A loud moan stopped any cohesive thought, and deliriously Ophelia realized it had come from her own mouth this time. Patience was licking and biting at her ear, lips dragging against her skin, and - Too much, <em> too much, entirely too much </em>as instinct overpowered thought<em> -</em> and then Ophelia canted her hips just <em> so, </em>chasing the pressure of Patience’s knee against her own body - awkwardly positioned, but <em>such a relief, </em>that heard herself gasp as she rode wave after wave of what she belatedly identified as <em>pleasure</em>. </p><p>It was with a feeling of relief and anguish that their bodies moved against each other in a clumsy but eager, nearly desperate rhythm. When a hand grabbed her hair and forced her face up, and another mouth found hers, Ophelia answered with a strangled sob that Patience, unrelenting, swallowed directly from the source. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>2. Patience</b>
</p><p>The boneless satisfaction that usually accompanied Patience after these moments receded slowly, leaving behind dread, regret and humiliation.</p><p>She was now wrapped in her bathrobe, dripping by the thermal bath, trying to arrange her hair under the cap and fuming with anger. Anger at Archibald for being such an excessive libertine, angry at the little Animist for existing at all, angry at herself for not choosing a more private hideout, and especially angry at her own self-control, which she had always taken pride in, and which had deserted her in the moment where she had needed it the most. </p><p>Her first kiss! With a nobody like that!</p><p>Behind her, the cause of all her griefs, wrapped in a bathrobe that was clearly too big for her, made herself busy twisting her drenched gloves. If her placid silence drove Patience mad, then she all but exploded with fury when the pipsqueak finally opened her mouth to say something.</p><p>“Did Archibald ask you to do this?”</p><p>Patience had believed her pride irremediably wounded, but this question brought her to a new humiliating low.</p><p>“How dare you?!” she spat, and then abruptly closed her mouth. Death would be better than showing even more vulnerability now. She took a deep breath, and turned with all the dignity she could muster, straightening her back to show the little Animist exactly how far above her Patience was - in rank, in class and in literal height. Let her be intimidated.</p><p>“...You already know that members of the Web share experiences. That includes my brother’s dalliances as well. Since we are so close to him, me and my sisters are more affected, especially when he goes through a more <em>intense</em> experience than usual”. There. She had explained it matter-of-factly, affecting level-headedness, conveying to the small woman in front of her exactly how little she cared about it all. She let her eyes wander like she had seen the lady Berenilde do: a gesture that was supposed to show the matter was so infimal that she was already thinking of something else. </p><p>How could she explain that it was not so uncommon in the Web, to take advantage of another’s encounters to enhance your own sensual experience? Talking about this with family members who partook in the habit was already embarrassing enough; explaining it to another, and a foreigner no less, was a mortification Patience was not willing to experience.</p><p>It was discomfiting when all she got for an answer was a nod, after a long silence. The other girl tried the wet gloves on, as if she had all the time in the world. Patience attempted to hide her unhappiness; her mind raced with the possibilities. Would the Animist tell her detestable husband? There was no story the bastard and his little fiancée could spin that the power of the Web could not turn fully against them; but at what cost? </p><p>“I say we were both victims of circumstance,” Patience added, more diplomatically.</p><p>It irritated her to be thought of as a victim of anything at all by the likes of this woman, but it also suited her much better than the alternative. Also, if this helped keep the woman wary of Archibald, so much better: Patience and her sisters did not understand what he saw in her, and had no wish for them to become any closer. Stupid as it was, she more or less understood using the woman as a means to hurt the bastard Treasurer, a lifelong enemy. But Archibald had offered her the Web’s friendship, and now seemed to look for excuses to check on her, and had even started calling her by her name. <em> Ophelia </em>. A vision crossed Patience’s mind, then, as fast as it was vivid: Archibald taking this woman to bed, and Patience experiencing it through him. She immediately turned away, to hide the deep blush that she could feel burning her cheeks.</p><p>“Patience… Has your brother…” A glance back and she saw her, Ophelia, clutching the gloves. For a brief second, Patience felt a sense of pity: this woman had literally nothing of value besides her own virtue, after all. She sighed in annoyance at that thought.</p><p>“I think he has already fallen asleep,” that was a lie, but Archibald was practically unconscious anyway. Whatever substance he had abused this evening, it was a strong one. “And he was in no condition to pay any attention, anyway. As for my family, those who do not care for Archibald’s dalliances were already distracting themselves; those who were interested will probably confuse our… experience... with Archibald’s, as there were a number of people involved today, and he was being rather careless with his Transparency. I-I could not distance myself like the others,” she added, noticing her blunder and hating herself for it. Every hesitation gave away just how much agency she had had in the events. “because I am very close to him, and there are other circumstances that I, I cannot explain right now. But anyway,” Blabbing! Like a child! Oh, she was furious with herself now. “Don’t trouble yourself over him or the family. I can keep it to myself, if you also promise to do the same. I am certain we both agree on this, at least: no one has to know”. </p><p>Ophelia merely nodded, thoughtful. There was an awkward pause, and then both tried talking at the same time. Finally, they left the room, and - to Patience’s chagrin - took the same corridor towards the hotel rooms. They walked in silence, and when they parted, Ophelia gave her a long look and then whispered something. Patience could not decide if it was “I am sorry” or “I promise”.</p><p>Her first kiss…! As she marched to the bedroom, Patience was not even angry anymore, just profoundly melancholic. She half-heartedly communicated with her sisters and she washed herself, privately relieved they were all out having a late dinner outside. She hid her soiled bath suit at the bottom of the laundry basket, disconcerted by how wet it was - clearly not just from bathing.</p><p>Later on, lying in her bed as she waited for her sisters, Patience’s mind wandered aimlessly, echoing the way her hands were wandering over her own body. In the mirror she had seen some evidence of the encounter left on her: her swollen lips, and a red mark where Ophelia’s teeth had at some point dragged against her shoulder - by accident, surely. She touched these again now.</p><p><em> Ophelia </em> , she thought: a strange name for a strange creature. She then thought of the treasurer, tall like a beanpole and angular, so different from his small, curvy fiancée. Patience scowled. A memory came to her, then, one that had originally belonged to Archibald: <em> you are so small that you inspire an irresistible urge to protect you </em>.</p><p>Patience scowled harder, then closed her eyes and took refuge in her own head, where she could be alone. Her family had access to her emotions and experiences, but - mercifully - not to her own thoughts. Apart from the humiliation, apart from the blunders and everything else, it had not been so bad, after all, now that she thought about it. It had been good, even. Too bad everything had happened like that. Now, Patience had no intention of ever turning out like Archibald - an encounter like this must never happen again - but she found herself thinking of how easy it would have been to touch Ophelia, to slide her hand under the bathing suit with less urgency and more appreciation, and would her breasts be as small as the rest of her body? </p><p>Patience’s hand wandered lower, chasing a feeling that resonated down there. <em> No </em> , she thought, her other hand coming up to touch the fleeting mark of teeth on her shoulder, <em> there are some things no one has to know.  </em></p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Bonus - Patience in a shower cap</h2></a>
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    <p>
  
</p><p>"Patience's real x-men power is to look hot even when she is dressed as a 40-year-old milkmaid", a testimonial by @the_icesalamander</p>
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